Exploding Flames 4
by Punk19
Summary: Sequel to Exploding Flames 2 Exploding Flames 3 is a prequel
1. Chapter 1

"Where the hell are you going?"

Standing half in and half out of the door was his younger half brother, Slash. Under his arm was a black and gray skateboard. His half brother was wearing a black jacket, a red, gray and black shirt and black pants, on his feet were black shoes with red laces. His dark gray hair was over his shoulders, lately he had tried to make it less spiky with a special shampoo, it really made his hair even more spiky. The area around his eyeless eyes was dark, inside his sockets were dark gray spikes that would shoot out when he was excited, shocked or angry.

"I'm going skating," his half brother hissed loudly. "what are you doing?"

"I'm also on my way out." Arson said.

"If you're planning on skating then you better change your plans." Slash said, turning around. "Remember what happened the last time?"

"The skateboard slipped from under me," Arson growled. "nothing I could have done."

He was referring to the incident that had happened four days ago, he had been trying to do a Double Helix, the skateboard had come from under his feet and had slapped up against his head, he had been up in the air when that had happened, it had hurt, what had happened next had hurt a lot! The skateboard had thrown him to the side, away from the ramp, he had landed hard on his side, his leg had gone under his body, the fall had broken several ribs and he had broken his leg severely.

"Like I'm suppose to control the way my skateboard comes from under me." Arson said quickly.

"Never heard anyone scream like you did!" Slash laughed. "You went waaaaah waaaaaah I want my daddy!"

Arson hated it when others made fun of him, he was half way to the closet that had all the outdoor play items when he turned and rushed at Slash. Slash was three years old, the youngest of his uncle's two children. Balling his hand into a fist he punched his half brother in the stomach and shoulders, his half brother backed away and raised his hands, the skateboard under his arm fell down to the floor.

"Okay okay," Slash said quickly. "I won't make fun of you."

Nodding his head, flashing his eyes and growling at the same time, he went back to the closet and took out his skateboard. It was a red, orange and black painted board with yellowish gray flames on the top and bottom. Hearing the door shut, he grabbed his helmet and ran out, following his half brother. His helmet was special made, the top had had a small opening cut into it to accommodate for the spike on his head, when he had fallen off his skateboard four days ago his spike had been broken from his head, luckily it had been re-attached after his leg had been fixed, his ribs still hurt him a lot!

"Hold up Slash!" Arson yelled.

In all it took five minutes to reach the place that the caretakers had built for them to skate, when they got their Slash quickly slid pads over his arms and legs, Arson, on the other hand, placed his skateboard down and placed his foot on it. Whenever his father was around he'd be made to wear the pads, when he wasn't around he didn't wear them. Not wanting to wait for his half brother to join him at the lip of the unfilled pool, Arson placed his other foot on the board and slid down the pools side.

"You think you're all that," Slash hissed loudly fifteen minutes later. "but you're not. You can't even stay on your skateboard!"

"At least I now how to use the toilet." Arson exclaimed.

"I know how to use the toilet." Slash replied.

"Then why did your momma have to change your bedsheets this morning." Arson laughed.

"So I had an accident," Slash said, swallowing hard. "hey you have them too!"

"Not as much as you do." Arson shouted. "I can't remember the last time my bedsheets had to be changed."

"Arson," Slash said slyly.

"What?" Arson growled.

"They were changed three days ago."

He had fallen off his skateboard three times and had busted his chin open on the second, he knew he was going to get it when he got back inside the house. Brushing his hand over his chin, he saw his green blood drip from his fingertips to the ground. Slash had fallen off his skateboard two times and was walking with a limp, he had landed funny the second time. When Slash had taken his helmet off he had noticed that he had had helmet hair and had joked about it.

"Have fun explaining to your dad that you fell and busted your chin wide open." Slash laughed.

"Hope you get plenty of attention for your poor aching ankle." Arson growled back.

Once he was in the door of the house he knew he was in trouble, standing by the fridge was his uncle, Six Shooter. His uncle had returned home a few days ago with his son, and his older half brother, Four Way Shot. They still hadn't gotten anything from him about the three week long camping trip that they had gone on, from the looks of it he had a feeling that the trip hadn't been good. Four Way Shot had gone to his room and had stayed there and had not said a word when he had gotten home. When he had gotten home he had just jumped from his horse and had ran inside, he hadn't even bothered untacking his horse, his father had done it in silence. Swallowing hard, he tried walking past him unnoticed.

"Tryin' to sneak past?" his uncle said.

"No, not really." Arson replied quickly.

"Mus' be a-hidin' somethin'." his uncle said, turning around. "Whut is it?"

"Nothin'!" Arson said, picking up the pace.

"Arson, ye stop right thar!"

When his uncle told him to do something, he normally would do it. This time he decided not to. Once he heard the elevated, slightly agitated voice of his uncle he kicked up his heels and ran out of the kitchen. When he reached the living room he thought he was alone. He was wrong, He heard the clicks of his uncles spurs behind him, without turning around he tore up the stairs, nearly tripped over a few. He was barely to the top when his uncle wrapped two of his six arms around him. His uncle picked him up effortlessly and turned him around, when he was face to face with him he saw a lot more that aggravation in his uncle's eyes, he saw hidden anger and disgust.

"An' whut a-happened to yer chin?" his uncle asked.

"I fell," Arson said, swallowing hard. "I was skateboarding and I fell."

"Busted yer chin up real good," his uncle said. "I bes' git it cleaned a-fore it a-gits infected."

"No, I'm fine." Arson said loudly. "I can clean it myself."

His uncle didn't listen, he carried him up to the bathroom beside his bedroom and plopped him down on the blue covering that was on the lid of the toilet. His uncle and he got a long very well, there were at times when they didn't get a long, when it came to disciplining. His uncle was wearing a white button up shirt, he had four extra arms on the shirt sewn in to accommodate for his extra arms, he had six and all of them acted equal, he was very good with all of them, he was also wearing blue jeans, a black belt held them up, hanging from the belt were four black holsters, each other them held one Colt .45 pistol, he was a very good shot with them, he'd always hit his target, over his white shirt was a brown leather vest, two more holsters hung from it, they housed two more Colt .45's. On his head was a black cowboy hat, he wore black cowboy hats on his feet, there was a pair of silver spurs behind them. His uncle had brownish gray hair, his eyes were the same color, his lips curled up in an evil smile, the evilest smile he had ever seen.

The antiseptic hurt, when his uncle pressed it against his chin he pulled back and yelled. When the bandage was placed on his chin he was glad the ordeal was over, he loved his uncle but when he got in the mood he was in now he was unpredictable. Although his uncle had been on the gentle side, he had used a little firmness to keep him from sliding off the toilet, when his uncle opened the door he nearly flattened him to the wall. He ran down the hall to his room and closed the door, making sure his door was locked, he sat on his bed and gently dabbed his fingers against the bandage on his chin, he wished he could yank it off. Walking to the bathroom, it was connected to his room, he felt anger swell in him. He wondered what had his uncle so angered, even when his uncle had ben tending to his wound he had seen the hidden anger and disgust in his eyes, signing loudly, he pulled the cabinet door open and reached in.


	2. Chapter 2

"I don't know what happened to my son," Blade said. "but his ankle is really hurting him!"

"Arson," Slash's mother said gently. "you were out with my son, what happened?"

Arson quickly shoved a piece of chicken in his mouth and started chewing it, sitting beside him was his father, he very rarely said a word while he was eating, most of the time when he was spoken to all he'd do would be to nod his head and go uh huh. His father was wearing a dark grey button up shirt and light gray pants, his brown tan jacket was hanging on the back of his chair. He had bullets for top teeth, the top of them was bronze, the bottom of the bullets was silver, his lower teeth were silver. Looking over to the side he saw Slash's mother, a beautiful woman with brunette hair, a few parts of it was streaked blonde and chestnut, her dark red lips stretched into a wide, dazzling smile, her brown eyes shone brightly. She was wearing an Egyptian skirt and a matching shirt, on her feet were light brown sandals.

"He fell," Arson said quickly. "he fell off his skateboard."

"He fell off his skateboard..." Blade repeated.

"Why didn't you tell us that when he came in?" Slash's mother asked.

"I figured..." Arson started.

"You figured that he'd just walk up to us on a swollen ankle without damaging it further?" Blade said.

"Yeah," Arson whispered. "something like that."

His uncle nodded his head and dug his fork into his piece of chicken, his long pure white hair was tied up, it was always up when he ate, Arson could see that his silver spikes, lighter than his sons, were out. His uncle was wearing black jeans and a gray and red shirt, his shoes were black. Sitting beside him was Slash, another chair had been brought up to the table so that he could rest his ankle, it had been discovered that he had nearly broken it.

"Lil Arson done come in with a ver bad chin." he heard his six armed uncle say.

"So uncle," Arson spoke up quickly. "how was the trip?"

His uncle slid his plate forward and placed one of his arms on the back of his chair, sitting beside him was his son. He had hunched his shoulders forward when the question had been asked and had cleared his throat loudly. His brother was wearing a green long sleeve button up shirt, over it was a brown leather vest with a pair of holsters that housed two Colt .45's, and blue jeans, a brown belt held them up, a pair of holsters hung from the belt and they housed two more Colt .45's, around his neck was a green kerchief, he had black cowboy boots on his feet with silver spurs behind the heel, on his head was a brown cowboy hat. His brother had brown hair and eyes, the same color as his father's, like his father he had extra arms and had two arms stitched to the side of his shirt.

"So you hurt your chin," his father said. "how bad was it Tex?"

"Lil feller done come in drippin' blood all over the place." his uncle replied. "I a-made sure to bandage it real good."

"Good, good."

His father wrapped his hand around his shoulder and squeezed it a little too tightly, Arson pulled to the side too fast and nearly fell from his chair. When he sat back in his chair he looked at his father and shrugged his shoulders. Sitting on his plate was an almost finished chicken thigh, potatoes and green beans. Digging his fork into the potatoes, he intended to not eat the beans, he wasn't a big fan of veggies anyways. One time he had tried hiding his peas in his napkin during a family picnic, his father had seen him tuck the last of them in and had made him eat them, he had almost made him eat the napkin too.

"How was the trip Four Way?" Arson asked his brother.

Arson and Four Way Shot were half brothers as well, they preferred to be called full brothers though, they were very close. Four Way Shot raised one of his four arms and made a slashing movement with it. He kept his eyes to his plate, he didn't look up. The table had gone quiet, everyone was looking down at their plate, even his younger half brother's were quiet which was abnormal as they were always chattering about something that had happened earlier in the day.

"Everything put up for the night?" Slash's mother asked. "The chickens, pigs and horses?"

"Yep, I done put all o' them up." Four Way Shot's father said.

"I hear it's going to storm later on tonight," Slash's mother said.

"Did you encounter any storms while on the trip uncle?" Arson asked.

His uncle cleared his throat and slid from his chair, when his feet touched the floor he stood up tall, he reached twenty-seven inches, roughly two foot four inches, tall. He nodded to his son and left the room without saying a word. Arson didn't understand, he had been asking his uncle the same questions over and over again about the trip and not a single one had been answered. Pushing his plate forward and sliding from his chair, he made for the living room.

"You still have food on your plate boy." his father yelled.

"I'm done eating," Arson yelled. "I mean I'm full."

"Get your ass back to the table and finished eating." his father said.

"I'm full." Arson repeated.

"Do I have to repeat what I just said?"

He didn't feel like walking back to the table and finishing his food so he kept walking. He was half way up the stairs when he heard his father push his chair out. Picking his feet up faster he ran up the remaining steps, when he turned around he saw that his father was walking towards the stairs quickly, he was at the first step within a minute. Swallowing hard, he turned around and continued walking down the hallway, when he reached his room he heard his father clear his throat.

"You'll either walk your ass back downstairs or I'll drag your ass down." his father said.

"I'm not hungry dad!" Arson exclaimed. "Seriously."

"Now!" his father yelled.

"Torch, he said he's full."

Arson didn't have to turn around to find out who had spoken, he knew who it was. The woman standing in the middle of the hallway was Four Way Shot's mother. Earlier she had been wearing a tan button shirt long sleeve shirt with red stitching, red jeans and red boots and a red cowgirl hat, her dark brown hair had been flowing past her shoulders, her dark brown eyes full of fire. Before supper she had been complaining of stomach pains and had gone to rest.

"Girlie," his father said. "how's your stomach?"

"Better, thanks." Four Way Shot's mother replied.

"Good," his father said, nodding his head. "if you'll excuse me, I've got to take my son downstairs to finish his supper."

"I'm full dammit!" Arson snarled.

His father took a menacing step towards him, swallowing hard he backed up, pressing his back against his door hard. Four Way Shot's mother cleared her throat and walked forward, she stopped when she reached his side. Her cheeks were flushed red and her eyes were bloodshot he could see, she wasn't wearing what she had been earlier, now she was wearing a light blue gown and blue slippers.

"Look, I'm not feeling well," she said. "Arson said he's not hungry and he don't want to finish his food."

"You know my policy." his father said. "He eats everything, and I mean everything, on his plate."

"We have no problem with you leaving your veggies for last," Four Way Shot's mother said. "sometimes even you leave the table without finishing your food."

"Regardless he needs to finish what he has on his fucking plate." his father said.

"Regardless my ass!" Four Way Shot's mother exclaimed. "He's not hungry, leave him be!"

His father's eyes shown a bright red and he heard him growl deeply, loudly. He saw that his father had balled his hand into a fist, his right arm was a flamethrower and he knew how to use it well. Four Way Shot's mother bent low and gently wrapped her arms around him, picking him up and hugging him tightly against her. His father nodded his head and turned around, he could of sworn he had heard his father say something about Four Way Shot's mother needing to get another test done.

"You still not feeling well?" Arson asked.

"Yeah, my stomach still feels a little queasy." Four Way Shot's mother replied.

"Have you had anything to eat?" Arson asked, worried. "Or anything to drink? Mountain Dew or that Seven Up shit might help some."

"It might yes," she sighed. "no I think I'll be better by tomorrow, even you have your bad days."

"I'm sleepy," Arson yawned. "I think I'll go to bed now."

Four Way Shot's mother carried him into his room and gently placed him on his bed, when he started undoing the buttons on his shirt she turned around, he could have sworn that she had placed her hand over her mouth. Before climbing into bed he placed his hand on her leg, she turned around and smiled at him warmly. She leaned over and kissed him on his forehead, she left before he could say goodnight.


	3. Chapter 3

"Hey Four Way..." Arson started.

It was eight in the morning, an hour after everyone had stirred from bed, Arson had climbed out of bed and had tripped and fallen on the carpet, nearly breaking one of his toes. He had sucked in the yell of pain and made himself stand up, his toe hurt him a lot and he was surprised that no one had noticed that he was limping. The night before it had rained a little, the ground was nothing but a brown soupy mess.

"Whut!" Four Way Shot yelled.

"Sheesh man," Arson exclaimed, jumping back. "don't have a cow."

"Whut do ye want?" Four Way Shot asked, a hint of agitation in his voice.

"I was going to say good morning and suggest we start messing around," Arson said, his red eyes with the orange and yellow star burst in the middle bright. "but I see that you woke up on the wrong side of the bed."

"I ain't got to a-be playin' around!" Four Way Shot yelled. "I gots things to do."

This was a new thing that his brother had been doing lately, he acted like work was more important than play. For the last week Arson had been forced to play with Loui or Slash, his father had insisted on it. He had found their games less fun, Loui preferred sitting on the ground playing with blocks and other small items. Slash, on the other hand, preferred walking around, looking at things. It got very boring a few times with him. When Slash wasn't walking around he and Slasha, his sister, would team up and prank and get him and Four Way Shot in trouble.

"Exactly what the fuck is more important than playing?" Arson yelled.

"Feedin' the animals," Four Way Shot replied, pushing the screen door out. "I gots to help mah pa feed 'em."

"I suppose if your father asked you to jump over a cliff you'd do that too?" Arson growled.

"Mah pa ain't a-gonna tell me to jump over a cliff," Four Way Shot shot back. "ye an' me both a-know that."

Four Way Shot was wearing his usual brown button up long sleeve shirt, brown jeans, brown cowboy boots with gold spurs behind them and brown cowboy hat, under his chin was a brown kerchief of the same design as his father's. It was rare to see him wearing a short sleeved shirt, and he almost never wore his muscle shirts. His father had a lot of those and even he barely wore them. It made him wonder if his brother was trying to become his uncle all over again. Walking behind him, Arson felt an evil smile coming on, his brother was walking around the mud puddle that took up most of the yard.

"I suppose you don't feel like taking a little time for mud wrestling?" Arson asked.

"I gots to feed the animals," Four Way Shot repeated. "maybe later."

"Or maybe now!"

Running with his hand outstretched, Arson didn't care if his flamethrower got wet or not. He hit his brother hard and sent him falling into the mud. At first glance the puddle looked very shallow, but when Four Way Shot's body hit the mud it sank a few inches. Roaring prematurely, Arson jumped in and grabbed his brother who was trying to climb out of the mess.

"Lemee out!" Four Way Shot yelled loudly.

"Never!" Arson exclaimed.

Four Way Shot's hat flew off of his head and fluttered to the mud, when he grabbed it he didn't notice that it was full of mud. Arson dived for him and missed by mere inches. In a fit of rage he got up and grabbed his brother's shoulders, Four Way Shot screamed in pain when his body was slammed to the ground. His hat, once again, flew to the mud.

"Git off o' me!" Four Way Shot yelled.

"Four Way Shot!"

Pulling his head around, his eyes were full of mud so he rubbed his hand over them. When the mud was clear he saw that his uncle, his brother's father, was walking out of the barn. He did not look happy, his eyes blazed and his lips curled in a snarl. Looking over to his brother, he saw that he was on his knees, his brown eyes were on his father.

"Whut is this!" his uncle yelled. "I a-told ye to come out an' help me with all o' the animals, not play in the mud!"

"He a-pushed me..." Four Way Shot said, pointing his finger at Arson.

"Don't ye blame yer bro!"

His uncle was at the mud puddle and was gesturing for his son to get out of the mud, Arson turned his head to the side and looked at his uncle, confused. True he had pushed Four Way Shot into the mud, he had been playing, but he didn't feel that his brother should be punished for it. Standing up and slowly slipping and sliding forward, he made it to his uncle before his brother.

"I did push him in," Arson said.

"Ye go on an' play." his uncle said. "I gots to deal with mah son."

His uncle and he got along very well, it seemed that Four Way Shot's father understood him more than his own father. Placing his muddy hand on his uncle's thigh, he looked up and saw that his uncle wasn't looking at him. He was looking at his son who was stooping down over his hat. When his brother plopped his hat on his head mud covered flowed down his face. Four Way Shot spat a few times then walked out of the mud towards the house. Feeling his uncle move away Arson looked up.

"He's been acting funny the last few days," Arson said. "why?"

"Imma a-gonna need some help 'round here in a few months." his uncle replied.

"He's always helped you out," Arson said, running to catch up. "how come you've turned into mister meanie pants?"

"Cause he a-might have a lil' brother on the way." his uncle said quickly.

Arson stopped suddenly and watched as his uncle walked away. He recalled his uncle, Slash and Slasha's father, saying that the family was getting too big, it had been after the birth of Loui that he had said this. Plopping down in the dirt, Arson sighed deeply, he wondered what was going to happen now. Would his uncle, Blade, have a fit and demand for something to be done to prevent the birth or would his uncle be okay with it.

"Looks it's the mud monster!"

Turning his head to the side he saw Slash and Loui standing off to the side. Loui was wearing a green and yellow tunic and black slacks, his boots were yellow, on his head was a green and yellow belled hat, it matched his tunic perfectly. In his hand was his green blanket, he went no where without it. Slash was wearing an outrageous suit, his shirt was blue and black with a white simple on the front, his pants were orange with red down the sides and his shoes were black. Slash's spiky hair was all over the place, it was spiky in the front and straight in the back.

"Yes," Arson laughed evilly. "I am the mud monster and I am coming for yoooouuuuu!"

Jumping up, still dripping in mud from head to foot, Arson started chasing his younger half brothers around. Slash was three years old and just barely ten inches, Loui was two years old and he was nine inches exactly, he had been born premature at four months. Catching Slash was easy, Slash was fast but he would always tire first.

"Let me go!" Slash yelled.

"Mud is all over you now." Arson laughed.

"You're crazy!" Slash hissed, the spikes in his eyes were out.

Slash ran off when he let him go, Arson didn't feel like chasing after Loui anymore, no one could catch him, he was just about as fast, if not faster, than a Jack rabbit. Dragging his feet behind him, he walked towards the porch, intending to go inside and get into a different set of clothes. The clothes he was wearing now was his usual brown jacket, gray button up long sleeve shirt and blood red pants and blood red boots. Before he could stretch his hand out to to the door it opened.

"Whoa there!" Loui's father exclaimed. "No monsters allowed in the house."

"Uncle!" Arson laughed. "It's me, Arson."

"Arson?" Loui's father repeated, his head tilted up. "Sorry dude, Arson walked out in clean clothes."

"I am Arson," Arson exclaimed. "son of the fire dude in there with the temper."

"What's going on out here?"

Arson's father pushed past his uncle and looked at his harshly, his eyes were dormant and his mouth was slightly opened. His father had bullets for top teeth, the top of them was silver and the bottoms of them was bronze, his lower teeth were silver. Swallowing hard, he backed up a step and nearly fell down the steps. He and his father had a stretched relationship, they were always fighting about something.

"He won't let me inside," Arson squeaked. "I want to come in to clean up."

"Go over there," his father said, pointing his finger towards the hose. "grab that hose and rinse yourself off before you do."

"Can't I do that inside?" Arson asked.

"I will not be letting you inside until you do," his father said. "your aunt just cleaned the floors and I don't think she wants to do it again."

Grabbing the hose slowly, his eyes bright, he turned it on and turned it towards himself. After hosing off his front he hosed off his back and then stepped back. Turning the dial slowly, he turned the hose off. When he turned around he saw that his father was not standing in front of the door, the door was closed, the screen was raised a little bit to allow for some of the breeze to flow in. Walking up the steps, he grabbed the door handle and pulled the door open, when he stepped in he walked into his aunt, Slasha and Loui's mother, who shook her head and pointed for him to go up to his room immediately.


	4. Chapter 4

Arson didn't feel like eating the mashed potatoes and beef on his plate, what his uncle had told him earlier was still heavy on his mind. Sitting directly across from him was Slash and Slasha's father, his left arm was over the back of the chair, he wasn't eating either, his plate was full and untouched. Sitting three chairs away from him was his uncle, his brother had said that he wasn't going to eat, he had gone to bed early. Four Way Shot's mother had come down for supper but hadn't stayed long, after a few bites of beef she ran off to the bathroom, his uncle on her heels.

"So I am hearing things," his uncle across the table said. "I am also seeing things."

His uncle would always start off a conversation like that, he would usually trick others into telling him what was going on instead of finding out himself. He had many uncles but the one that made all the decisions was Slash and Slasha's father. This uncle had long white hair than came all the way down past his shoulders, a skull white face with spikes for eyes and he was wearing all black. His name was Blade. Arson shoved a large chunk of beef in his mouth and started chewing on it.

"Mah gal is not a-feelin' well." his six armed uncle replied.

"I hear she is pregnant." Blade said slyly.

"Nah, she ain't."

His uncle was sitting calmly in his chair, one set of arms over the back of the chair, in his middle right hand was a fork, in his middle left hand was a knife. He had taken his hat off of his head before sitting down at the table, he had said that it wasn't polite to be sitting at the table with a hat on several times. Sliding his plate forward, Arson stretched a little, there was only a tiny bit of the beef on his plate, his potatoes he didn't feel like eating.

"For your sake she had better not be." Blade said menacingly. "Do you recall correctly that conversation all of us had after Loui was born?"

"I a-remember," his six armed uncle sighed. "no more lil' un's."

He had been two years old when Blade had called everyone into the living room that night after Loui had been born. Loui's mother had given birth a year earlier to a healthy baby girl, Slasha, his half sister, and it had been a big surprise to everyone that she had gotten pregnant again a few months later. Loui's first two months had been rocky, no one had known if he would survive or not as he had been born extremely small and had also been under weight. Loui's mother had also been in trouble, if it wouldn't have been for his uncle, Blade, she would have had to go to the hospital for something his uncle had called back them, hemorrhaging.

"It is hard to say this," his knife wielding uncle had sighed. "after the hard birth of baby Loui..."

"We are all upset about it Blade," his aunt, Leech Woman had said. "not just you."

"We very nearly lost two members of this family," Blade had said. "my lovely Jude, and the baby."

"Not every pregnancy is the same," Leech Woman had said. "you know that."

"I don't think we need...or want to go through what just happened again," his uncle had said. "so, unfortunately, I say that there cannot under and circumstances be anymore births."

"How the hell are we going to prevent further pregnancies?" Four Way Shot's mother had yelled. "I for one will not be going in for a vasectomy."

"I suggest that you, Soraya and as soon as Jude is feeling better that all three of you ladies start taking birth control pills." Blade had said. "Me, Jester and Six Shooter will rely on condoms."

Everyone had started a ruckus after he had said that everyone was required to use birth control pills and condoms, after the conversation he had taken his father to the side and had asked what those were. He had gotten a small answer: baby prevention. His father had said it was a-okay with him when Blade had said that everyone was to start using contraceptives, another word that he had picked up after hearing his Blade and Jester, another of his uncles, fight.

"Me an' mah gal a-been careful," his six armed uncle said. "I been a-wearin' mah condom's an' she's a-been taken' her pills."

"I don't feel like having another night of no sleep," Blade sighed. "that was two years ago and it still weighs heavily on my mind."

It a-weighs on ever'bodies minds Blade," his uncle said. "I ain't a-plannin' to put mah gal through that kind o' danger."

"What kind of danger?"

Arson nearly fell out of his chair, he hadn't expected Four Way Shot's mother to walk into the kitchen. After she had gotten sick his uncle had told her to go lie down for awhile. Standing in the dorrway, her green button up long sleeve shirt tucked and the bottom of her blue jeans up, Four Way Shot's mother looked sick. Her brunette hair was all over her face, falling over it and stuck to her face, her eyes were bloodshot and she had a green coloration to her face. Pushing his plate away, Arson jumped out of his chair.

"Nothin'," his six armed uncle said. "we was jus' talkin' 'bout thangs."

"For real," Four Way Shot's mother said sweetly. "what was you talking about?"

"It was about little Loui," Leech Woman said. "about his birth."

Four Way Shot's mother nodded her head and then ran to the sink were she got sick, Arson didn't want to admit it but he was starting to get a little worried about her. His uncle had said that she was going to have another kid, no one but him and his six armed uncle knew about it, he was sure that Four Way Shot didn't know. He acted as if he hadn't a clue as to what was going on.

"Stomach flu is going around," his half brother's mother said. "I think I might have it."


	5. Chapter 5

"Mah ma is a-sick." Four Way Shot sighed. "she's a-ver sick!"

Four days earlier Four Way Shot's mother had collapsed in the yard, she had been carried to her and his uncle's, Four Way Shot's father, bedroom where she had been lying in his bed. The only reason why she had gotten out of the bed was to use the bathroom. Four Way Shot had been allowed to skip on some of his chores, the only thing that he had done the last four days was feed the chickens and take the horses out, a few times he had fed the horses, the rest of the time he had hung around Arson.

"Yes, she is sick," Arson said. "sick as a dog."

He hadn't meant for it to come out sounding like a joke, when Four Way Shot turned around, his eyes blazing, he shrugged his shoulders and went back to the cupcake in his hand. Everyone had gone crazy when Four Way Shot's mother had fallen, she had been about to get up on her horse, Madonna, her leg had been up in the air and almost in the stirrup when she fell, he had been close enough to hear her gasp for breath. Her horse, a chestnut mare with a star and snip in the middle of her head, had walked a few steps away from her then had slowly nudged her with her nose. Four Way Shot's father had walked out of the barn then, he had never heard his uncle yell like he had that day.

"I'm sorry," Arson sighed. "I didn't mean for what I said to sound like a joke."

"Wouldn't surprise me if ye was a-jokin'," his brother said. "yer always a-jokin' 'bout these thangs."

"I'm always joking about these things," Arson repeated. "say what?"

"I a-was talkin' 'bout whenever someone a-gits sick or if I'mma talkin' 'bout some gal." Four Way Shot exclaimed.

True he made fun of anyone that was sick and it was true in some ways that he did joke around whenever Four Way Shot started in on telling him how cute some girl that he had his eye on. The last one had had blonde hair that had been held up in pig tails on both sides of her head and bright blue eyes, she had had freckles all over her face and arms, she had been wearing a blue dress with white flowers. For some reason Four Way Shot went for the blonde's and brown headed girls, some his age, recently he had been checking the teens out.

"Sometimes I don't mean what I say." Arson sighed.

"Wanna go check out the gals over yonder?"

Arson didn't want to admit it, he acted like his father, he acted like girls were icky and gross, but really deep down he really liked them. Whenever he and Four Way Shot were out scouting, he'd change into someone different. Standing up slowly, dusting the crumbs off of his pants, straightening the collar of his short and double checking to see if his shirt was tucked in, he nodded his head and he let his eyes shine bright.

"Where's Arson and Four Way?" Slash's father asked.

"Last time I looked," Judy said, looking up from her sewing. "they were sitting over by that bale of hay."

Jumping a little, Four Way Shot nearly tripped over a root, he'd always get excited after seeing the girls. Arson followed with his head down, none of the girls that his older brother had pointed out he liked. Looking up, he saw that his brother had turned around, he was walking backwards and not paying attention to were he stepped. The spur on his left boot hooked onto a root and he fell hard to his side.

"My goodness," Arson said, pretending to be concerned. "did you fall down and go boom?"

"Shut up!"

Sitting down on a tree that had fallen down, Arson looked at his brother, there was something that he had missed. His brother's shirt had pulled up and he could see bandages on his ribs, stretching his hand out he pulled his brother's shirt up more, the bandages went all the way up his ribs. Hearing his brother clear his throat, he let the shirt go.

"Happened on the trip didn't it?" he asked.

"Yeah," his brother sighed. "it did."

"I've been asking your father what had happened on the trip," Arson said. "been asking you as well, neither of you seem to want to tell me about what happened."

"I'll a-tell ye," Four Way Shot sighed. "but ye gots to swear that ye ain't a-gonna tell mah ma."

"I promise, I swear that I'll keep what you tell me a secret." Arson said, he placed his hand on the left side of his chest and crossed his heart.

Four Way Shot stood up and tucked his shirt in, when he touched his ribs he grimaced, Arson could tell that his ribs still hurt him. His brother was always getting wounds on him, one time he had gotten his hand caught in the door and had broken two of his fingers, his mother had mended the wound with a little bit of tape and a Popsicle stick, of which Four Way Shot took off a few hours later. He was not a fan of bandaging, he preferred the natural healing, like his mother.

"A bunch o' coyotes done attacked the cows an' sheep." Four Way Shot said. "Mah pa done killed one, I was thrown from mah hoss."

"That don't sound that bad," Arson said, surprised, he felt that there was more to what had happened but he didn't feel like pressing his brother for more information so he nodded his head and patted his shoulder gently.

Four Way Shot cleared his throat a little more before sitting down beside his brother, he had told his brother only a small fraction of what had happened. The coyotes had been nothing, his horse had reared up after a coyote had lunged at him, when he had landed on the ground his horse had ran off. The coyotes, on the other hand, had stayed.

"Son!" his father had yelled. "Git up off o' the ground a-fore one o' the coyotes git ya."

He had been slow getting up, the wind had been knocked out of him and his vision had been very fuzzy, one of the coyotes had jumped on him and had grabbed him in his jaws, it had hurt a lot and he had screamed a lot. When his father had opened fire on the coyote, it had been too late, the coyote had dropped him after he had poked him in the eye and had ran off. After the coyote had run off, his father had maneuvered his horse over him.

"How many ribs were broken?" Arson asked.

"Three," Four Way Shot lied.

His father had grabbed him and had thrown him up on his horse, they had camped by the river for three nights then had gone off to search for his horse. They had found him grazing a mile away, he had had scratch marks on his sides from being attacked by a few coyotes. His horse, a palomino with a long mane and tail that had three stockings and a sock, his horse had a blaze that ran all the way down his face to his nose. His horse had been registered under the name of Bee'xooti, his father was a grandchild of Doc Bar, a spectacular horse that had revolutionised the cutting horse industry, his mother, a mare that lived on the ranch by the name of Mae, was a Thoroughbred. He had seen the birth of the horse a few years back, his father had come into his room and had dragged him down the stairs, he had been trying to pull a cotton shirt over himself at the time, if it wouldn't have been for his father, he would have flown down the stairs and gone splat on the floor, it had taken the mare a few hours to foal, when they had gone inside his father had made him hot cocoa, after the second sip his father had placed his hand on his shoulder and had told him that the foal that had just been born was his.

The rest of the trip with his father had gone well, they had joked around and made each other laugh, he still remembered sitting in the tent with his father eating beans, when they had finished they had gone to sleep, the next morning his father had woken up first and had made a ruckus and a half with half a laugh.

"Woooooo weeeeeee!" his father had yelled. "Lets a-git this tent open!"

His father had thrown open the tent and had rushed out, he had followed soon after, the smell had been horrible. All through breakfast his father had kept asking him what he had eaten last night, he had asked the same thing and had thrown in a few other sentences that had made his father laugh at the sky. After breakfast they had taken the tent down and had tacked their horses, at nine they had set off leading the cows and sheep towards the green pasture that had layed a few miles to the east of them.

"Ye see that thar cow right thar son?" his father had said, he had been pointing at a heavily pregnant cow.

"The lil' yeller cow pa?" he had asked, shielding his eyes.

"Yep, that lil' cow." his father had said.

"Whut 'bout her?" he had asked.

"I's expectin' her to a-have two lil' un's." his father had said, smiling widely.

"I a-thought cows done had one lil' un," he had said, he had read in a book that a cow had only one calf. "Nah uh, yer a-pullin' mah leg, she ain't a-havin' two young un's."

His father had pulled his hat over his eyes and had laughed a little, they had driven the cows and the sheep to a grassy hill then had stopped for lunch, before they had started off his father had discovered that there were Mountain Lion tracks in their path. The rest of the trip that day he had rested one of his hands on the stock of his Winston 1876 Rifle with a red stock, butt and a black barrel.

"Ye used a lot o' rope pa," he had asked his father later that night. "why?"

His father, before they had eaten and made for bed, had used up almost all of the rope that they had brought to make a big corral for all of the cows and sheep, he had sat on a hill and had watched him tie the rope to anything sturdy, a tree or a rock. When his father had sat down beside him he had noticed that his hands were rubbed raw, almost to his hands. They had had nothing but beef that night, when they had gone to bed it had been very quiet.

"Why don't we a-git on home," Four Way Shot said, still remembering what had happened. "I's a-gittin' hungry."

Arson followed him quietly down the trail, the house was brightly lit so they knew they weren't going in the wrong direction. Arson was right beside Four Way Shot so he could tell that every step hurt his brother, he gently slid his arm around his brothers waist and helped him along. Four Way Shot nodded his head, his mind was kicking up more of what had happened.

The trip had been good until the Mountain Lion tracks had been discovered. Sleep that night had been difficult, he had woke up several times, the fifth time he had been opened his eyes he had turned over and had tried waking his father who had just pushed his shoulder back into his chin. He had grabbed a knife, the small hunting knife that had been in his father's holster, then had walked out. It had been very warm outside and very quiet, when he had turned on the flashlight that he had put in the back of his pants he had noticed something in the tree. A big orange mass with what looked to be yellowish green eyes.

"Pa..." he had called.

He had made a big mistake by turning around, away from the orange mass in the tree. One minute, he was on his feet, the next he heard a loud screech and scream then was on his back. He had been allowed to roll over to his stomach, the flashlight had fallen from his hand and had somehow rolled towards him, what had been an orange mass with yellowish green eyes in the tree was actually a very large male Mountain Lion. He had taken one look at the animal before letting out a scream for his father, him screaming had caused a lot more problems though. Once the first scream was over with, the Mountain Lion had grabbed him on his ribs with his teeth and had shaken him.

"Whut's a-goin' on out thar?"

His father had ran out in just his pants, he usually slept without a shirt when he was out camping, when he had seen him, his son, in the jaws of the Mountain Lion he had screamed louder than himself. The knife had slid from his grasp, it had been lying beside the tents opening, his father had ran past it like it hadn't existed, the Winchester Rifle held mid high in his hands. The animal that had had him in his jaws had looked at his father for the longest moment before turning around, he would have ran off with him in his jaws if his father wouldn't have opened fire on him.

"Let mah son go!" his father had yelled.

The Mountain Lion had dropped him on a rock then had turned on his father, he would have torn a good chunk out of his backside with his claws if his father wouldn't have slugged him with the butt and stock of the rifle. He had seen the fight happen on his side, his vision had gone from crystal clear to very fuzzy while in the animals jaws, he had also started having breathing problems. When the animal pushed his father on his back his father saw the knife and had reached for it, three hands holding the animal back and the two hands on his top arms holding the gun against the animals chin, keeping the animal from snapping his jaws on his face. When he had grabbed the knife he had made a sound he had never heard before, it sounded like a war hoop more than a yell, then he had drove the knife into the animals head twice then deep into his chest, into his heart, killing him instantly.

Four Way Shot didn't want his brother to know that had happened, when his father had knelt over him he had noticed the deep fang marks that were on both sides of his ribs, his shirt had been nothing but green after the event, from his blood. When his father had carried him into the tent he had started to tend to him, all the while telling him that he shouldn't have gone out and giving him a full lecture on how dangerous Mountain Lions were. He hadn't said a thing, he couldn't after all he had been in the jaws of the creature that had been thrown to the side of the tent. He had screamed loudly when his father had applied the antiseptic to his wounds. The rest of the night his father had sat up, he had detected a few mutterings from his father about ending the trip and taking him home tomorrow.

The next morning he had been well enough to sit up, he didn't have the strength to stand or walk, his ribs had hurt him a lot when he had tried. His father had been out already, he could hear him outside, when he had peaked around the tent flaps he had seen his father, his knee of a cows neck and a branding iron in hand, the cows feet, all four of them, had been tied up.

"Ye keep yer lil' tail in that thar tent!" his father had yelled when he had seen him peaking around the tent flaps.

The rest of the trip had been hard and painful, he had begged his father to let him get up on his horse and he had had to beg for his father to not send him back. It had taken an extra week for them to get the cows and sheep to the greener pasture and a week to get back home. He had been glad to get home, all the way home his father had chided him for stepping out of the tent and for wondering off without his permission, when he and his father had ridden up to the yard he had jumped off of his horse, regardless the pain in his ribs he had hugged and kissed his mother hello then had ran inside just about as fast as he could, leaving his father to untack and turn his horse out.

"An' mah pa a-may be gittin' another lil un'." Four Way Shot sighed sadly to himself.


End file.
